Opinions are like
by DSISandraPullman39
Summary: Suddenly the world doesn't seem so bad after all, yeah there are plenty of people out there willing to pull me down but so long as he's around to build me back up again I'll manage just fine.


**Opinions are like…..**

**Disclaimer:-** Don't own them just borrowing!

**Episode:-** None

**Pairing:- **Nicola/Ollie

**Rating:- **M

**Achieve:- ** **http(:/) . /group/rebeccafrontlewisffarchive/**

**Summary:-** suddenly the world doesn't seem so bad after all, yeah there are plenty of people out there willing to pull me down but so long as he's around to build me back up again I'll manage just fine.

**Author's Note:- **In answer to the "Katie Hopkins" challenge to write a fic in which one or more characters was angered or upset by the opinion of a so called TV or radio "expert". Rated for language and sexual content otherwise enjoy and reviews as always would be delightful!

"So in the opinion of this commentator the prime minister would be advised to remove Nicola Murray and those excuses for advisors around her from any sort of control over the countries immigration policy before we end up with another cock on a magnitude too big for even the Machiavellian methods of the bold Malcolm Tucker to get them out of." I can't believe what I'm hearing nor the way Paxman is nodding his agreement with the rent an opinion tosser sitting in front of him. For months everything has run smoothly, for months there hasn't been a single balls up that warranted any sort of attention from the fucking vultures in the media and now one small slip up and this time it is a small fucking slip up and they're all over me again. It wasn't even my fault the fucking boarder agency computer freezes and in the queue there is one slime ball fucking tabloid bastard and suddenly I'm the most fucking incompetent minister in the history of fucking government. I've had enough of this I need to go home have a hot bath and forget about all of it I don't think I can take another round of beatings from the mass media and come out the other side with my sanity, what's left of it, intact.

"Fuckin bastard who the fuck is he calling Machiavellian? I'm far more mercenary than that as he'll fuckin find out if I ever get five fuckin minutes alone with him. Nicola ignore the ball of fuckin arse wind this is one time when it wasn't your fuckin fault." I should be pleased that Malcolm is actually on my side but right now nothing can make me feel better and I just need to get away.

"Nicola? Nicola where are you going?" I didn't even make it as far as the last flight of stairs and Ollie is behind me his briefcase in hand. "Stop for two minutes please Nicola."

"I just want to get the hell away from this building Ollie, I need a very large drink and something that will make me forget I ever set foot in this fucking place." His fingers are resting softly on my arm and I can't meet his eyes, we don't do this here, we don't indulge in even the most covert of touches. He is the only thing that has ever mad coming here and starting this hell worthwhile but I can't let him comfort me, not here.

"Meet me at my place in half an hour he'll not be expecting you home after a broadcast like that anyway, let me make you feel better Nicola, please." I know I should say no, I should go home and deal with how I feel there but I know James wouldn't care if I never came back and I won't get any sympathy or support from him and that's what I need now more than anything.

"Fine but you better have a glass…..no make that a bottle of fucking wine and a straw waiting for me when I get there." With the smallest of nods he's gone and I already think it's a mistake but I know now I couldn't go home, if I'm honest with myself I never really thought I would. Elvis would have dropped me off and I'd have stood in the driveway hoping one of the 5 people inside the house would notice I was there and when they didn't, they never do, I would have got in my car and driven away. I could be missing for days before they would notice, even my children have got to the stage now where whether or not I'm in the house makes no difference to them. When I feel like I do now, when I want to shout and rant and need to get my frustrations out home is not where I want to be, James is not the man I want to listen to me then make me forget. Ollie is. He has been for months and I know he will be for a long time to come.

"Home Minister?" Elvis is what every minister needs. They should all have an Elvis. He is the sole of discretion he does what he has to do and tells no one, he sees everything but says nothing not even to Malcolm so I know he will take me where I want to go and I needn't fear an inquest about it in the morning. He's done it before and will again and before I open my mouth he knows what I'm going to say I can see it in his eyes.

"No not tonight Elvis."

"Usual place?"

"If you wouldn't mind yes thank you."

He's started the engine and pulled away from the front of the building without so much as another word as I sink back into the seat my seat belt feeling like it is the only thing keeping me grounded and stable in the world not just the car. In less than twenty minutes we're pulling up outside Ollie's flat and with the smallest of nods he gets out and opens the door for me handing me my ministerial boxes as he does.

"I'll see you in the morning Minister 7 am at your home?"

"Yes Elvis thanks, and thanks for this I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it and Minister?" I've turned to see him smiling reassuringly at me "Don't listen to them, the press need a punch bag this week it's your turn you're good at this whatever they try to say that's why you scare them. You're not afraid to make a mistake and carry on I've been driving government ministers for ten years and you're the only one who's ever been able to do that with any dignity don't let the bastards drag you down."

"Thanks Elvis, I'll try not to." I've stood for a second watching him drive away and I don't know if I want to laugh or cry. When even my driver has an opinion on my skills and no two opinions coincide can anyone actually be right?

"Would you like red with a straw or white?" Ollie has opened the door with a bottle in each hand and I can hear news night still on in his sitting room as I walk past him staring at the screen as a ream of people on the evening panel now dissect my political career.

"I don't fucking believe this I mean what the hell is Edwina fucking Curry doing there she was more of a ministerial disaster area than I am and at least I haven't been fucking the damn PM I mean here and John Major that's just fucking sick, who the hell does she think she is to sit there and say I don't know what I'm doing when she single handedly put half the egg farmers in Britain out of fucking business the queen of fucking salmonella and now the biggest political joke in Whitehall with her fucking bodice ripping tell all excuse for books. Are you hearing this Ollie she's actually calling for my fucking resignation like I personally crashed the Heathrow boarder control computers for the hell of it." I am properly fuming now pacing back and forward in front of his television as she continues her character assassination in earnest with Paxman pretending he's making the counter argument in my favour while slyly twisting the knife she's planted so squarely between my shoulder blades.

"Nicola calm down you know no one takes her seriously I mean she is a rent a mouth with a laughable political history and she's a complete fucking media slut these days she's more interested in dancing on fucking strictly come prancing about than what it takes to run the country. I swear she'll be in the Australian jungle eating fucking kangaroo balls where she belongs again in a week or two. Paxman only brings her on to tear the guts out of current ministers because she's the only one brazen enough and desperate enough to do it." He's pulled me into his arms and turned the TV off but it's not working I still feel like I've just been called incompetent by the village idiot and it's not a good feeling.

"That's not the point yeah people are at home laughing at her but when they're done laughing the next thing they are saying is "yeah but she may be a twat but she's a twat with a point" they'll all be thinking it. They'll all be saying I should do the country a favour and fuck right off into the Australian jungle myself because it's all I'm fucking good for and…"

His lips have crashed into min silencing any further rant as he pushes me toward the sofa his hands tearing at the buttons on my blouse as he does and I want to stop him, to keep up with rant, to make my point but I can't the soft satin of my blouse is on the floor already and my bra follows shortly after as he shoves me gently onto the sofa batting away my hands as I go to reach for him. Now he's shedding his own clothes at a rate of knots and in moments he's on top of me fumbling with the zip of my skirt before pushing it and my panties down my legs. God I love how he looks at me, I love the fact that he's already rock hard and desperate for me and his hunger is exactly what I need right now a fact he knows better than anyone I've ever been with before.

"Fuck you feel so amazing do you know how much it turns me on when you are so passionate about what you're saying, so determined it's the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He's taking me with a desperation that feels fantastic and I want to tell him, I want to ask him for more, to make me forget the rest of the world exists but when I open my mouth all that comes out is a series of desire filled groans and gasps but he knows, he always knows as he rises up lifting my legs over his shoulders and slamming deeper and harder into me. His eyes are fused with mine, his nails digging into my hips, his groaning renditions of my name so intoxicating and before I have time to breathe to speak, to tell him how amazing it feels I'm lost in an earth shattering wave of pleasure so intense it verges on agonising and rise off the sofa trembling as he tells me again how much he loves being inside me and before long I feel him swell and empty inside me before falling exhausted into my arms.

"Jesus Ollie I've never been with anyone who can do to me what you can." I can't move and neither can he as we lie on the sofa our bodies still entwined our breathing still laboured.

"Don't you ever let those fucking bastards make you feel like you shouldn't be exactly where you are again do you hear me?" The anger and determination in his voice has shocked me for a second as he pulls me a little close propping himself up on one elbow beside me on the sofa. "The next time you hear one of them spout on like that especially one as fucking useless as Edwina media whore Currie you remember opinions are like assholes everyone's got one and most of the people prepared to go one TV and tear others apart are the biggest assholes of all. You are where you should be and that's where you're going to fucking stay don't forget it! Say it Nicola, promise me you'll not let them get you down."

"I can't, I can't promise that but I will promise to always let you reassure me if that helps." He's kissing me again and suddenly the world doesn't seem so bad after all, yeah there are plenty of people out there willing to pull me down but so long as he's around to build me back up again I'll manage just fine.


End file.
